


If he wasn't a prince

by destielsuperwholockbandhoorah



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 13:32:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4021723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielsuperwholockbandhoorah/pseuds/destielsuperwholockbandhoorah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written from a scene that I forgot which episode it is from, so very mild spoilers. The beginning is the episode with my own descriptions, and then it branches off. Merlin can't hold in some of what he's wanted to say for a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If he wasn't a prince

"But if I wasn't a prince, well, then I think we'd probably get on."

  
Merlin heard the words from across the room and curled in a little tighter on himself. He allowed himself a moment to consider that alternate reality, the one where Arthur was just some prat he met in the market one day, not a prince, not in charge of the fate of hundreds, just the two of them, without fate and destiny and war and with a whole lot less rampaging dragons. It was nice, and he reckoned that Arthur was right about them getting on. But he knew it was nothing like reality could ever be. There was just too much in their lives. Too much resting on their shoulders.

  
"So?" Merlin said back, a little petulantly. He knew he shouldn't take his frustration with the situation out on Arthur, he had to keep it in, had to hide everything, just like always. But it just slipped out, and despite the class differences, they were friends in a way. This was their relationship. Arthur teasing him, and Merlin letting him, within reason. It would be great, except for that lie that hung over him every day, every moment of his life.

  
"So that means you can tell me." Merlin could hear the slight disappointment in Arthur's voice. That was Arthur though, so reliant on honesty. He wished he could tell him. He wished he had enough faith that Arthur's opinion of him was strong enough to counteract his opinion of those with magic.

  
"That's true. But, you see, if you weren't a prince, I'd tell you to mind your own damn business." Merlin replied shortly. It was weird, seeing Arthur like this, barely a prince at all, more just a man. It was too close, too personal, it brought everything to the surface like he didn't have to deal with a lot. Emotions were running too high and he just wanted to sleep before he said something stupid.

  
"Merlin! Are you missing Gaius?" Arthur teased, the whole tone of the conversation shifting back to something more comfortable. This was familiar territory. This was good.

  
"Something like that." Merlin might have laughed, or come up with something to say back, but he just wasn't in the mood. Hopefully Arthur would just drop it. Knowing him though, he wouldn't. Actually, knowing Arthur, it was due time for some sort of projectile to be launched at Merlin.

  
"Well, what is it, then?" Arthur asked, rolling over with a small grunt and, as predicted, chucking his pillow at Merlin. It hit him in the head, but he ignored it.

  
He figured the only way to avoid the discussion was to say something to put Arthur off. "I'll tell you." He said. There was an uncomfortable, expectant pause, where Arthur waited and Merlin decided what part of the truth to tell. He had learned, in the past while with Arthur, that what they said about lying was true. It worked best if it contained a part of the truth.

  
"I'm worried about everyone back in Camelot," he settled with, "I hope they're alright." It was true. But it was far from what was bothering Merlin the most.

  
"So do I." Arthur replied quietly. And it seemed the end of it. Merlin's eyes were falling shut, where he lay with his back to the prince.

  
But then there was a rustling sound, some labored noises, as Arthur got up. After a moment, Merlin realized that he was retrieving his pillow from where it had fallen on the floor. The bed creaked as Arthur presumably laid back down.

  
His voice was unexpected in the silence. "You know what, Merlin, I can tell when you are lying to me. There's something you're hiding from me, and you are going to tell me."

  
You have no idea. Merlin thought to himself with a grimace. He tried to keep up the lie. But he was tired and he had been resisting for so long.

  
"That wound of yours is getting to your thick head. Just go to sleep and leave me alone." Merlin tried to ignore the feeling of eyes boring into the back of his head. He'd think he would be used to that by now.

  
Arthur scoffed. And Merlin flinched a little as the pillow came back to smack into him again, with a dull thwump. "Seriously Merlin? That is weak compared to your normal idiocy. I'm disappointed." Arthur's banter was falsely positive, and Merlin could tell. Maybe they knew each other better than they thought.

  
"Leave me alone." Merlin said sullenly, huddled in on himself even more.

  
He knew it wouldn't work with Arthur. He had hoped though. Because really it only made Arthur press harder, and the exchange went on for several minutes before once again, Merlin blurted out, "I'll tell you." And once again an expectant silence fell. But it was different this time, and both of them knew it.

  
Arthur didn't say a word as Merlin uncurled himself and sat up, rolling his neck a little and avoiding Arthur's eyes.

  
He wasn't sure what made him change. He did want to tell Arthur, he always wanted to. And even now, he wasn't going to tell him everything. But he was going to tell him enough, for once. And his heart was beating too fast in his chest and the world was pressing in too close on him, and he just had to talk. He had been holding everything in for so long. And maybe it was wrong, and most definitely he would regret it later, but for the time being, it would feel good, and he could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, ready and shaking with anticipation for having waited so long.

  
"It's just," Merlin started, then stopped and swallowed, his mouth going dry. He tried again. "You know, this person we're looking for? Balinor? Gaius told me something about him."  
Arthur was uncharacteristically silent, and Merlin asked a glance at him. He was just sitting there, watching. It was so unlike how he always was, except, it still was him somehow, a new side of him, bought out by the figurative closeness to the ground, perhaps. But for once, he wasn't berating Merlin, or ordering him around, or anything. He was just... listening. And it encouraged Merlin.

  
"Turns out," Merlin said, his voice bitter, "Balinor was my father."

  
Arthur's silence had broken. "Your what!?" he sounded incredulous. Merlin just smiled wryly at his hands, where he was fiddling with them in his lap, and continued.

  
"They never told me. I never knew who my father was. I thought...  I thought he was long gone and dead and then I find this out, I find out that he is alive, and not only that, but some kind of dragon lord? I mean, this is ridiculous. And no one ever told me..." he trailed off momentarily, trying not to let the tears that wanted to escape drip down his nose.

  
Arthur's voice was serious, "Merlin, if you're the son of a dragon lord..."

  
"I know, and please," Merlin looked at Arthur full on for the first time in the conversation, "please don't tell anyone, you know what that would mean and-"

  
"Of course I wouldn't tell anyone," Arthur replied, quick and quiet, and with the look on his face, Merlin felt some of the load inexplicably fall from his shoulders. "But it might be a problem," Arthur continued. "Does this Balinor, this father yours, know who you are?"

  
"I don't even think he knows that I exist." the thought was a strange one, to be sure.

  
Arthur had a look of indecision on his face, before Merlin saw sort of an internal shrug and watched as Arthur got up, walking carefully across the small distance that separated their beds, grimacing with the pain of the wound on his side. He saw what Arthur was doing and moved over a little, making room on the small, hard bed for the two of them to sit side by side. It was a new feeling with Arthur, one of closeness that he found himself enjoying. It was comforting.

  
"I know it's more than that, Merlin," Arthur told him, with a bump to his shoulder that left them a little closer than before, "I can tell there's always something you are keeping from me, and frankly, while I am offended," Merlin opened his mouth before realizing that Arthur had been joking and closing it again, "I understand there is stuff a man has to keep to himself, certain secrets, as you will. Thank you for trusting me with what you have. And if you ever want to talk to me, I promise I won't be a- what's that you're always calling me?"

  
"Clotpole, oh wait no, did you mean dollophead?" Merlin attempted the joking but his mind was still weighed too heavily upon.

  
"Idiot," Arthur told him, but it seemed more affectionate. And now their shoulders were resting against each other, and it felt good, it was reassuring. But it also reminded Merlin of how much he was still hiding, and here was Arthur thanking him for his honesty.

  
Even with Arthur there pressed up against him, everything built up inside of him until he was crying, silent tears falling down his cheeks, and there was nothing he could do about it. So he let them fall, just hoping Arthur wouldn't see. He knew he would get endless grief about it.

  
Invariably, Arthur did see, but contrary to what Merlin thought would happen, he said nothing, just shifted so that his arm was around Merlin's shoulders, pulling him close, comforting. And they stayed like that for some time, actually, until Merlin fell asleep.  
He woke warmer than usual, and found himself curled up, surrounded by softly snoring prince. He didn't know what it was, what they were, what he even wanted. He didn't care if they both got up and said nothing about it afterwards, which was likely, knowing them. Because it had happened, and even with everything, even though nothing was fixed, he still felt somehow, a little bit better.


End file.
